The Concussion.

Pull me from
this concussive state.
I can't see straight
I don't want to
and I won't look you
in the eye,
because when I do
I see trails of smoke
a fading line
of what we used to be.
I see stars
spangled and caught
row on row in symmetry
and I'm lost in it all
and my head pounds.
It still pounds.